


Honeypot

by MercuryPilgrim



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Boning your way through the ImpAgent storyline, Cipher Nine is a ho, Cipher Nine is a little shit, Crack, Imperial Shenanigans, In-YOUR-endo, Innuendo, It even has english accents because IMPERIALS, Keeper is so very done, Poor Keeper is losing his hair, Strong hints about using sex to get information, This is just like space James Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 08:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryPilgrim/pseuds/MercuryPilgrim
Summary: Some days, Keeper couldn’t tell if he hated his job or not.





	Honeypot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkShadeless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Reconstruction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19088935) by [DarkShadeless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless). 



Some days, Keeper couldn’t tell if he hated his job or not.

This would seem odd to some, as hatred of something you spent most of your waking hours doing should probably be fairly easy to identify.

When every morning came with four cups of strong tea liberally topped up with ulcer medication, perfectly calibrated breathing exercises and a quick look in the mirror to wonder where all his hair had gone, one would probably start to look into a change of career.

Keeper had been many things to many people over the course of a long and very classified career, but he had never been a quitter.

His job was thankless, soul crushing and detrimental to his health, but it was _his._

He had built this.

His blood was in the very walls, his sweat and tears and a doomed marriage in the foundations.

These were _his_ agents.

He always gave the fresh ones the same talk. Idealism should be left at the door.

Intelligence was dirty, humourless work.

He knew that for each world-weary cynic and fervent patriot, every last one of them had a little bit of idealism in them. Even him, although he would never admit it.

He let his eyes wander over the bullpen, busy as always. These people were the very best. Hand picked. Trained to perfection.

Utterly dedicated and-

“-and then I told her to go kriff her own _mother_!”

He felt his mouth thin at the loud cackle coming from the Rattataki currently bothering Watcher Three.

Kaliyo Djannis was a fine asset and taking her on has absolutely been the right call (shut up, Two), but-

“-with her _lightsaber_!”

She was _awfully_ loud.

She also heralded the arrival of the third biggest cause of his ulcers, after the SIS and the Dark Council.

Cipher Nine was the perfect operative.

The man was at his physical peak and his training was second to none. His mind was razor sharp and his ability to read people was uncanny. His morals were all but non-existent, and his loyalty unquestionable.

He was also one of the most frustrating people Keeper had ever had the (mis)fortune to work with.

Sure enough, the Chiss was walking through the bullpen with a swagger that would have put a Sith to shame. He took his time, greeting technicians and operatives alike, flashing a holo-vid smile and making each one feel like his attention was _just for them_. His eyes were kind and his smile charming and easy, and Keeper let himself marvel at how easy it seemed for the agent to turn it on. Cipher Nine could put a blaster between your eyes and pull the trigger without batting an eyelash, but no one would believe it when he smiled at them.

Skin-tight armour didn’t help the swooning, and Keeper couldn’t hold a sigh as a Minder dropped her stylus just to see him pick it up. There was some giggling, a sigh or two and Keeper was _definitely_ regretting letting his top field agent mingle with the _analysts_.

Such skills were an invaluable asset, Keeper was aware. Spirits, they gave training on seduction as part of _basic._

He just wished Cipher Nine didn’t employ those skills _on their own people._

His mission reports were perfectly detailed.

So very, very detailed.

The Chiss had stopped his amble through the bullpen and effortlessly joined the conversation between Kaliyo and Watcher Three. The poor Watcher was both fascinated and cowed by the boisterous, crude mercenary, and looked rather glad to have the Cipher to deflect her attention off him.

Watcher Three had a definite case of hero worship, but he was also one of the very few people not actively trying to get into Cipher Nine's perfectly skin-tight pants.

Keeper had a worrying feeling that a concerning number of them might have been _successful_.

He was about to call all three of them into his office for a debrief, when he caught a snippet of conversation.

“-don’t know how you do it!” Watcher Three was gushing (he would have to have a word with the young analyst- no one from Intelligence should _gush)_. “Four agents before you couldn’t get her to say a single word!”

Cipher Nine cracked a grin, amused. Keeper tutted as he spotted an analyst across the room sigh, her fingers resting still on her holopad.

“Oh, I’m just quite persuasive.” The Cipher demurred. “She just needed the right... touch.”

Kaliyo sniggered.

Watcher Three, eyes huge, nodded so fast his features were a blur.

“You certainly handled her very well,” the young analyst complimented, and the Cipher's smile widened.

“She was a good girl,” he said, amused. “She just needed someone to remind her of that.”

Kaliyo’s lips twitched.

“And she led you to the cell on Alderaan?” the Watcher prompted, curious.

Cipher Nine nodded. “Mmhmm. House Thul were _most_ accommodating. I couldn’t get tired of their... hospitality.” He said, serene. Keeper didn’t believe it for a second. “I tracked a scout back to house Organa. I infiltrated their estate under the guise of a new house servant, and they were very happy to... have me.” He shrugged, something glittering in his crimson eyes.

Kaliyo snorted. “I bet they were.” She muttered under her breath. “Over and over and over again.”

Watcher Three didn’t pay her any mind, attention fixed on the Chiss who was lounging like a big cat, spinning his story. “The son of one of the lesser branches of Organa was the brother of the girl I interrogated.” He admitted. “He was away when I arrived, so I got to know his parents a little better instead.” His smile widened. “And his fiancé.”

Kaliyo developed a sudden cough, which sounded suspiciously like ‘whore'.

Watcher Three nodded sagely. “Yes, undermine their foundations,” he recited. “It's much easier to get information when you’re not working against a united front. Did you learn anything from the parents and fiancé?”

“Oh, this and that.” The agent demurred, sly. “I had to go a few rounds with each, but I got what I wanted.”

“Sounds like hard work.” The Watcher sympathised, and the Cipher nodded.

“It _was_ hard. Really hard. You must figure out what makes each one come undone. It takes patience, but each one is different. What works on one won’t work on the other.” He grinned, and a Fixer banged her shin on a table as she walked past, sighing. Keeper studiously ignored her cursing.

“Sometimes it’s good to get them in the same room, you know? Let them see what I’m doing to the other one. That really gets them worked up.” He said, beatific. “When you hear them begging, that’s when you know they’re _close_.”

Watcher Three looked like he wanted to take notes. Kaliyo was close to losing it.

Keeper wanted to bang his head against the wall. He wouldn’t, because he was Imperial and he had _manners_ , but the urge was almost too much to resist.

“When I got what I wanted, I moved in to bag the son.” He explained, voice low and his expression wicked.

Watcher Three's eyes were wide.

“I don’t know how you have the energy!” He said, shaking his head. “That’s not easy work.”

Cipher Nine's smile was best described as _wolfish._

“One does work up a sweat.” He agreed, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “Training and _experience_ are a great help in that regard. Nothing worse than running out of stamina halfway through.” He said sagely, and Kaliyo let out an ugly snort, turning away to muffle her laughter with a fake cough. “Still, the son was a _goldmine_ and he gave up the identity of the leak that had been feeding him information.”

Watcher Three waited with bated breath.

“Infiltrating that place was a nightmare, but I eventually found my mark. I approached him as a fellow defector,” he nodded, amused. “It worked. It was _long_ and _hard_ but eventually I got him to spill once I worked him over good. It took three rounds before he was done, because I really _pounded_ the information out of-"

Keeper could take no more.

“ _Cipher Nine.”_ He called, his tone sounding more like a reprimanding schoolteacher than he was comfortable with, volume loud enough to carry.

The agent didn’t jump, just met his eyes and gave a lazy, pleased grin. The little shit was going to make him lose the rest of his hair.

“If you are _quite_ done spreading your _sordid_ tales to your co-workers, I believe we have a debrief.” He bit out. People quaked when Keeper entered a room. Even most _Sith_ usually kept a healthy amount of respect for a man who could have even them disappeared at the slightest whisper of treason. Cipher Nine, the little sociopath, just gave him a lackadaisical grin.

He ignored Kaliyo and her muttered ‘That’s not the only thing getting spread' with long suffering ease. Watcher Three frowned and seemed to be trying to understand the situation. Keeper's analysts had minds like supercomputers but ask most of them to deal with anything that wasn’t on a spreadsheet and you got… problems.

Kaliyo, sporting a shit-eating grin, made an obscene gesture with her pointer finger and the ‘O' of her pointer and thumb on the other hand. Watcher Three’s expression was baffled for a moment before he flushed a deep red, and made an embarrassed, horrified noise as he replayed the past few minutes back with new context. He turned mortified eyes on the Cipher, who shot him a roguish wink which just embarrassed him further.

The agent levered himself off the computer bank he had been leaning on with the easy grace of a nexu spotting something worth chasing.

Keeper felt the overwhelming urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

He was getting too old for this.

Cipher Nine smile flashed teeth, and Keeper felt so very put upon. Cipher Nine was on base for the next week after his success, and he was very aware that the agent did not handle being idle well _at all._ He could already tell it was going to be a long week and there was still an upsetting amount of days left in it.

“Of course, Keeper.” Came the purred reply, to which Keeper wanted to sigh. “I do love a thorough _de-briefing.”_

_“Cipher.”_

**Author's Note:**

> For DarkShadeless, whose work in the SWTOR fandom is worth a medal and makes me stupidly excited every time I see a new one in my inbox.
> 
> Inspired by a hilarious back and forth on just how annoyed Cipher Nine would make Keeper.


End file.
